Malice
by panyasan
Summary: Why did Raijin attack T'Pol? Was she give special orders and by whom? A story about T'Pol, Raijin and a person hidden in the shadows.


**Malice**

By panyasan

**Disclaimer** : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount. Several quotes are from the ENT episode ___Raijin. _This episode was written by Brent V. Friedman and Chris Black from a story by Brent V. Friedman and Paul Brown.

**Author's note**: I always felt some parts of the episode Rajiin were very disturbing and my writing reflects this sentiment. I like to thank Honeybee for being an awesome beta.

* * *

It was dark, as she stepped into room, composed like she always was. The room had a stone floor, thick metallic beams on the sides and was decorated with only one chair and table. In the middle stood a person, bathed in shadows. Only the light of the fireplace in front of him casted him some light. He turned around and stood perfectly straight in his military uniform, which hung creaselesson his broad shoulders. His face seemed made of stone.

"You're the telepath the Xindi hired?" His voice was cold.

"I am," she replied to the business partner of her owner, trying to sense his emotions.

"I have another assignment. It will help our alliance with the Xindi. It may even help you," he said, clearly avoiding to look her in the eyes.

"In what way?" she replied, adding softness in her voice. Her charm often worked in situations such as this, plus the promise of a benefit made her curious.

He smirked. "I believe you have a daughter. I could convince the Xindi to return her to you. If you do what I ask."

She gestured that he should continue, and he explained her mission. He also added a peculiar request.

"On the ship you will visit to get Human biological information, there is also a Vulcan woman. You must scan her as well and bring the information to me."

Before he told her of the assignment, she hadn't felt any emotions from him. He didn't care about her or her daughter, nor about the Xindi and their fight with the Humans. It almost appeared as though he kept his emotions guarded, shielded like his uniform kept his body in perfectly straight order. But now she could sense rage and malice roaring behind his facade.

"What is her name?" she asked.

"There is only one Vulcan on _Enterprise_, " he spoke the word Vulcan with disdain. He continued, bitterness coloring his voice, "Her name is T'Pol. I assume we have an agreement?"

She felt no reason not to agree. She didn't care about this T'Pol, only that she escape this life as soon as possible. With her daughter. "Yes."

"You're dismissed."

She turned around and she had almost reached the door, when he walked toward her. "There is one other thing."

She looked at his strong face, and and a barely perceptible shiver went down her spine. He was surely a man that would do as he pleased without any mercy for others. "Touch her ears. Move your fingers across her ears."

"To scan her better?" She was confused.

Of course," he said coldly, his mouth twisting in a distant smile. "Keep your order, Raijin. If you want to stay alive. Or if you want your daughter to stay alive."

"I will," Raijin said, glad she could leave his presence. After she left, she was sent to a marketplace. She only had to wait until crew members of _Enterprise _would show up and finish her assignment.

* * *

T'Pol still could vividly remember how her father had looked in her youth. His friendly face, the way the red color of his robe shimmered in the early morning sun when he taught her the Vulcan ways. "Um'ro – being in state of proper balance or equilibrium – that is the purpose of our meditation. That is the purpose of any Vulcan technique. Because without balance, there is chaos," her father had told her, every time they had a session. When she had started to learn neuropressure through employing several techniques on her own body, he had encouraged her. "Neuropressure is another tool to achieve our balance in the midst of emotional turmoil. Because we most control. Chaos leads to destruction."

And how she needed to find balance amidst emotional turmoil these days. The Expanse had had a profound influence on her. Meditation wasn't sufficient anymore. So in spite of her initial reluctance, she saw now it was only logical to have started neuropressure with Commander Tucker. It was not only beneficial for him but also her.

Today Tucker, or Trip as she was more and more inclined to call him in her thoughts, had come her quarters at his usual hour. She had lit the candles to create the soothing atmosphere needed for effective neuropressure. After the first exercises – warm ups as Trip liked to call them – she started to work on his temples. She sensed him relax, but there was still a tinge of unrest.

"Is that sufficient pressure?" she asked, while pressing his temples.

Trip instructed her to press a little harder. "Mmm, perfect. Try that neck thing. What'd you call it?"

The neck thing. She understood he meant the Khavorta posture., which required the proper breathing technique. "Are you certain?" she asked.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I've been practicing my breathing."

She pressed underneath his ears and to her surprise his breathing pattern was perfect. He had been practicing. It was a sign that he took her lessons and neuropressure seriously and somehow she felt strangely content with this. She took them seriously too. It was beneficial and, if she was honest, she was surprised at being so comfortable in his presence.

Trip started to speak. This would diminish the impact of the Khavorta posture, so instructed him to seize talking and relax his jaw. He followed her instruction. "Excellent", she said, "Now, the Surah'than."

Instead of making the preparations for that posture, Trip said "You know, I really need to talk to you about something. "

"Is there a problem?" she wanted to know.

"No. No, no, I mean, this feels great, and I really appreciate you taking the time. It's just, I'm not sure we should be doing it anymore," Trip remarked if it was the logical thing to do.

She was surprised. "You said this was helping you sleep."

"It has," Trip agreed.

"Then why do you want to stop?" she asked, puzzled. T'Pol realized she was very reluctant to stop their sessions.

"People are talking," Trip explained. "About us. About me coming to your quarters at night. They think there's more going on than neuropressure. "

"And that disturbs you," she understood.

"It shouldn't, I know, but Malcolm and I were purging a clogged injector assembly only last week and he asked me why I didn't just massage it with my magic fingers," he told her. He didn't seem to appreciate Lieutenant Reed's attempt to humor.

If he had wanted to stop for other reasons then the chatter of his fellow crew mates, that would be a problem. Not this. Ever since she came aboard Enterprise she had heard the remarks, jokes and gossip about her. Humans weren't aware of her better hearing abilities. She couldn't change their opinion, so she let it glide from her. She would advise Trip to do the same.

"I see no reason to be concerned with idle gossip," she answered.

"It doesn't bother you?" He appeared to be relieved.

"'We're both senior officers. If we were pursuing a romantic relationship it wouldn't be Lieutenant Reed's concern, would it?" she summed up her thoughts.

"I suppose not," Trip said with a smile.

"Shall we continue?" she suggested and so they went on with their session.

Later, in her time of meditation, it occurred to her that in her answer to Trip she had used the words "pursuing a romantic relationship". Of course a relationship with him would be ill advised. There were too many differences between them. She was Vulcan, so she wasn't able to give him the emotional support he needed. He wouldn't be content with her. Besides, although he showed signs that he saw her as an attractive woman, signs that made him uncomfortable, he never made any indications of wanting a relationship beyond their friendship they shared.

Which was all for the best. It was better to not form an attachment. Especially given the fact he would undoubtedly grow tired of her and she would lose him in the end. Such a relationship would not be productive.

She ended her meditation with that thought and went to bed. Tomorrow would be another day to achieve Enterprise's mission.

* * *

The next day captain Archer informed her that he would be leading an away team that would attempt to collect much needed Trellium-D on a nearby planet. When they returned, it appeared the team had not been entirely successful. They had only been able to buy some liquid Trellium-D.

Unfortunately, Trellium-D was not the only thing the away team brought aboard. The Captain had decided to save a female slave he had found in the marketplace that they had visited and had brought her aboard the ship. Doctor Phlox had medically examined the woman and the Captain had given her own accommodations on _Enterprise_.

The female had a Human appearance, except for her eyes. T'Pol observed that they had an unusual color. The woman, Raijin, claimed to come from a planet called Oran'tuku.

However sad her life had been, T'Pol saw her as an unwanted distraction on their important mission. The sooner she returned home, the better. So T'Pol quickly searched through the database they had acquired and soon she found the planet Oran'tuku, only two days away from their present location.

T'Pol passed this information on to the Captain before meeting Tucker in the laboratory to synthesize the Trellium-D. The procedure for processing the liquid Trellium-D was rather delicate. After several hours, she saw hardly any process.

She also experienced some strange sensations while working. Tatters of strong emotions seemed to wash over her from time to time. Apparently, in the Expanse she needed more meditation and neuropressure to counter it's effect.

For now, she suppressed any feeling and focused on her task, trying to find the right combination to synthesize the trellium.

What's the molecular pressure?" the Commander asked.

"Up to eleven hundred units," she answered.

"Boy, this stuff is tricky. Decrease the theta bombardment by six — no, seven percent," Tucker suggested.

"The pressure's still rising. Fourteen hundred units. Fourteen thirty," she reported.

"Damn it. Kill the theta radiation altogether," he muttered.

According to the readings, the procedure had no effect. She thought should seal of the section and leave.

Trip did not agree and suggested new options. "I'm going to ramp the delta at eighty percent."

"It's not working," she pointed out once again. Sometimes he could be so stubborn. "You're welcome to leave," Trip responded.

Of course, she wouldn't leave without him. He needed her help. "The pressure is up to two thousand units. Commander!" she shouted and they left just in time, before the container blew up.

"Some of our calculations may have been slightly off," she concluded.

"We're back to square one," Tucker sighed.

She suggested a break. "Come to my quarters in half an hour. We'll resume your neuropressure regimen," she told him. Clearly, they both could use some rest before they made another attempt.

* * *

T'Pol went to her quarters and closed the door. She adjusted the temperature, so her cabin would be comfortable warm and redressed herself. After she knelt down for her time of meditation, she lit a candle. She was about to retreat in her white space, when she noticed some one else was in the room. It's was the women from Oran'tuku. She was dressed in a gray Starfleet jumpsuit.

You must be T'Pol. I didn't mean to startle you. My name's Rajiin," the woman said.

T'Pol suppressed a feeling of annoyance that someone would enter her room without asking permission. "I know who you are. What are you doing here?"

"Your door was unlocked," Raijin said, obviously lying.

"That's not likely," she answered. She always locked the door.

"I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk," Raijins voice became softer.

"Perhaps you are unfamiliar with our protocols, but it is unacceptable for you to be in my quarters uninvited," T'Pol responded.

Instead of taking the hint, Raijin knelt down and leaned in close. T'Pol could smell her unpleasant scent. Raijin's eyes bored into hers and her voice came soft and secretive. "I didn't think you'd mind."

T'Pol felt trapped, paralyzed by Raijn's eyes. She needed to stand up and get this woman out of her room. "I'm afraid" she uttered, but Raijin moved on, stroking her ears. Her Vulcan body responded, and T'Pol hated this normal biological response. She should just take the hands of this woman and remove them, but somehow she couldn't.

"You're Vulcan, on a ship filled with humans. Why?" Raijn asked.

This simple question helped her to take charge. "Vulcans and Humans are allies. Now please leave."

Raijin didn't leave. Instead she felt her hands on her head and a force that was probing her mind. "What are you doing?"

"Don't resist,"'Raijin said with a soft voice, while pressing harder. But resist T'Pol did. She didn't want Raijin scanning her brain, nobody was allowed to enter her mind. To violate her. She thought of Tolaris and she felt sick.

"I need you to leave," she demanded, but Raijin was deaf to her plea. Shemust resist, T'Pol thought.

"You have a disciplined mind," Raijn whispered "You're in such control of your emotions. Try to let go," T'Pol tried with all her might to stop Raijin from searching her brain, but the pressure was so high. "Better," she heard her say while she ran her hands over her torso, scanning her body this time. T'Pol hated the pleased sound of Raijns voice. She could only say "Stop". Raijin had to stop.

But Raijin continued without mercy. "Let go," Raijin repeated slowly, as if this was a kind of game. T'Pols katra screamed that she didn't wanted to let go, she didn't want to be used like she was nothing, a toy, without identity.

T'Pol felt her resistance slipping and she struggled to regain it. She would fight. Her ears heard the door bell and by instinct she knew it was Trip. The thought of Trip suddenly gave her strength and she pulled herself away. She was free. Then she felt Raijin attack her and a piercing, burning, all consuming fire flowed her brain, causing her katra to scream in agony. "No," she shouted.

* * *

When she woke up, she was cold. T'Pol lay under a blanket, a monitor close by. She had a pounding headache. Phlox's face appeared above her. "Ah, Commander, you're awake," he said without his usual cheer.

What happened?" she asked him, trying to get up, but dizziness stopped her tracks. The last thing she remembered was that Trip had been at her door.

"You're were attacked by Raijin and suffered disruptions throughout your neocortex," doctor Phlox explained. "I have treated your injuries. You have been in the Imaging Chamber for several hours. I advise you to rest."

She had a horrible taste in her mouth and she wished to drink, before she laid down. Without asking, doctor Phlox pressed a hypospray in her neck. She woke up after a few hours of deep sleep, images of Raijin rolling in and out her mind. She needed to meditate. She asked Phlox for permission to rest in her own quarters, and while he wasn't entirely pleased with her request, he allowed her to leave sick bay.

She felt light headed as she walked towards her quarters. The door was open. She entered and closed the door. Her quarters were cold. Her burnt-out candle remained on the floor, next to her cushion. Pieces of a jar were spattered on the floor. It had been the jar of her uncle Kovan. She walked to the shower.

In the shower, she cleaned herself—eyes, ears, mouth, hands. In her head, a children's rhyme repeated over and over again: pu-tor bezhun, pu-tor bezhan, pu-tor ru'lut, pu-tor el'ru, pu-tor ak'shem, pu-tor katra, wh'ltri-farr. She poured the water on her head and how long she let it flow over her head, she did not know.

She broke free of her trance, closed the tap, dried herself and dressed herself in her robe. She took a cleansing breath, letting the memories come. In meditation she would find balance again. She was about to light the candle, when the comm buzzed. It's was the Captain, ordering her to come to sickbay. He wanted to talk to her. She redressed in her uniform and headed to sickbay. Duty came first.

* * *

The door of sickbay swooshed open and she stepped in. To her surprise she was unexpectedly confronted with the familiar appearance of Trip. She saw his face, every line that she know so well, his blond hair, the blue eyes lighting up in happy recognition, the way his chest and shoulders were encased by his Starfleet uniform. An unmistakable longing rushed through her veins, to be in a session and lay down her head on his chest, feeling the comfort of his soft skin.

But she remained silent, stepping forward to doctor Phlox and Trip. Doctor Phlox rebuked her for not resting. Trip seemed to agree with the doctor, his eyes locked with hers. She felt his warmth and and concern. But she didn't answer his unspoken question about her well-being, because she knew she had to find balance first. So she focused on the urgent matters at hand, until the Captain arrived. After the debriefing, she quickly returned to her quarters. Meditation would help her.

* * *

As soon as T'Pol arrived in her cabin, she picked up the pieces of the jar and cleaned the room. During her activities, T'Pol tried to shake any unpleasant emotions of her mind. They are not real. They are illogical.

When she finally sat, dressed in her robe, before the candle, she examined the events of the previous night one by one. Every step. Every emotion. She didn't regain her balance. In fact, the tumult in her mind only became worse.

She realized Raijin's attack had shaken her. Not from the mere attack, but during that time Raijin search her mind and scanned her body, T'Pol felt something. Raijin's motives were led by something dark. It tasted like hate, like pure malice. Malice against her. Against her race.

To make it more confusing: Raijin was looking for Human biological information. Why did she scan a Vulcan? Why did she stroke her ears, the most sensitive part of a Vulcan body?

Her mind went back to the moment she just had arrived on Enterprise, the last time that any one had touched her and Trip had be together in Decon. They both were curious. She could sense it by the way Trip moved his hands over her body. She could smell his arousal. She didn't mind. Trip was aesthetically pleasing to see, and touching and observing a living Human always provided more information then textbooks. She wasn't shocked when Trip touched her ears, she was merely annoyed. He hadn't acted out of malice, it was of ignorance. He couldn't possible have known what touching some one's ears meant in Vulcan culture. Not for a second, she hadn't feel threatened. In fact, she had felt confident of her attractiveness.

However, when Raijin touched her ears, emotions like hopelessness and embarrassment had bubbled forth, together with a deep hate towards T'Pol's natural biological reaction. She knew the best way was to suppress what she felt. She had some many questions, but it was futile to find answers. T'Pol would never know the truth, because Raijin was far away. For now, she only had to try to find her equilibrium again.

* * *

Raijin stood silently, before the guards took her to her next meeting. She knew the Xindi weren't too happy about her plea for Humans. At least they were calmed by the information she brought. She had completed her assignment. The guards took her now to her second customer and left her there. Like the last time they spoke, when she had received her orders, they were alone. The room was cool, but not dark and she had a clear view of the military man.

Raijin smiled. Now she was sure: this man had small ridges on his forehead, but his ears were that of a Vulcan.

Her smile wasn't answered. "I heard the Xindi weren't so pleased you defended the Humans, but I assume you have succeeded in your mission for me?" he said in a calm matter.

"I have," she answered and she showed him her evidence. The man asked her to download them on a PADD.

She finished her work in silence, aware that he was again very hard to read. He broke the silence when he asked her "Have you done every task I asked you to do?"

"Yes," she responded with confidence. He looked like a man with influence. If she was able to win him over, maybe he could help her escape this life of slavery.

"Did she resist?" his voice stayed neutral, but she could sense he was very curious.

"Yes," she answered, clearing her conscious with the thought that it had been T'Pol own fault. "She did and I had to attack her. I hurt her."

"You kept your eye focused on the mission. That's a great talent," he replied, hardly impressed by her words. "The Empire would reward you if you came and worked for us. It would also benefit your daughter."

"So this was a test?" she asked, making clear she was not only talented, but intelligent as well. "You could have obtained information about Vulcans in another way."

"That was part of the process. But if we buy you, we will not tolerate questioning us," he simply cut any new questions of. "If we buy you, you will be reunited with your daughter. He smiled grimly. "A daughter for a daughter. Let's hope a certain father would be more cooperative if he is aware that we are able to get to his daughter."

Then he called the guards and told her he would be negotiating with her owner about buying her. Raijin didn't know if she was pleased or not about this outcome. The Empire seemed powerful and could possibly help her in achieving her goal. However, she hardly knew anything about this Empire, who their enemies were and why they seemed to hate the Vulcans so much. If this man was an indication of the Empire, her life would be more dangerous than before. For now, she just had to play along.

The guards came and he guided her to the door. "In the Empire, the words to use when you come and go are "'Long live the Empire. Get used to it," were his parting words.

"Long live the Empire," she whispered back, embracing her new life. A new and dangerous game had begun and her victims had to find their own way to heal.

* * *

On_ Enterprise_, the day after the attack of Raijin, T'Pol could only come to one conclusion: her meditation had not been successful. She had woken up from a restless sleep and during the day she had a hard time concentrating.

Only late at night, when Trip came to her quarters; when she relished in his touch and warmed herself with his friendly chatter; when she could feel his concern and interest help her to restore her equilibrium; the dark moments with Raijin finally started to fade away.

* * *

**Translation of Vulcan children rhyme **

_pu-tor bezhun, pu-tor bezhan, pu-tor ru'lut, pu-tor el'ru, pu-tor ak'shem, pu-tor katra, wh'ltri-farr _- clean your eyes, clean your ears, clean your mouth, clean your hands. Clean your body, clean your mind. Time to meditate.


End file.
